Business travel

America's polar vortex

How the third coast braves the cold

Jan 10th 2014, 17:25by N.L | CHICAGO

CHICAGOANS pride themselves on being pretty resilient to the weather. A dump of five inches of snow overnight would be enough to shut down most major cities. Not so Chicago. The city rolls out its 500 GPS-enabled snowploughs (which can be tracked live on a public website) and the citizens pull out their shovels. Everyone gets to work. Indeed, it is the law in these parts: you must shovel the snow on your sidewalk. And we do it, for the most parts, with good humour.

Even so, "Chiberia", as the polar vortex was dubbed, was extreme weather for us. Hundreds of passengers found themselves stranded overnight on a Chicago-bound Amtrak, over a thousand flights were cancelled at the two airports, and the buses and trains struggled. The lack of transportation did not matter so much for most, though. Schools were closed and with little fuss most people decided to stay at home. As if we needed to be told, the city even recommended it.

So we cancelled our meetings, cracked open our work laptops, parked the kids in front of the television or with friends, and hunkered down. Reports came in of quiet streets, closed businesses and empty parking lots all around the city—although, judging by the yellow snow, dogs were still walked. They proved hardier than polar bear at the zoo, however. With the temperature at -27C, not including wind chill, she was taken indoors. Apparently she does not have as much insulating fat as a wild polar bear because she has to cope with the hot summers.

My husband was one of the brave souls who did venture out. He did some filming of the arrival of the polar vortex for a news channel. It was so cold his microphone mount broke—the plastic became too brittle in the low temperatures. But the pictures that came in from those who ventured out spoke of a frozen wasteland. The lakefront looked like a moonscape—albeit a windswept one. The river was frozen into a solid sheet. In some places cars were entirely cased in thick sheets of ice. Those who did go to work were difficult to discern under the layers of clothing. It may have been only a few miles, but this felt like an extreme form of business travel.

The biggest problem the freeze brought is that the snow hangs. Although people are diligent about shovelling the sidewalks and the city ploughs the roads, there are no man's lands between the two that create some unusual headaches. Parking is one of them. By Chicago tradition, if you dig out a parking spot from the snow in the morning you can "dib" it all day for when you return that night. Garden furniture is typically used to claim a spot, but anything from suitcases to strollers have been pressed into action. Some people object. There is even a group calling itself "Chair Free Chicago" which is campaigning for people not to be selfish by trying to save a spot. Strong opinions are held on either side of this debate, however. And taking someone's shovelled out spot is often the source of much anger (or snow rage), and potentially retribution.

Another no man's land is at the edges of streets. Snow piles up in linear mounds, left by the diligent snow clearers. The upshot is that crossing the road is somewhat hazardous. During the deep freeze this means climbing a steep icy berm and then trying not to slide down the other side. Worse still, though is when the weather improves a little and some of the snow has partially melted. One's foot may plunge unexpectedly through a crust of ice and snow and into a wet, icy hole. Wet feet are an occupational hazard of our winters. Even the ladies who lunch find they are forced to wear wellingtons with their designer gear. Hunter's wellies—$150 a pair—are a popular posh brand. Just the thing for a jaunt from the taxi to the Gucci store.